


Maelstrom of Reconstruction

by GateBreaker



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, M/M, Metaphors, POV Hannibal Lecter, Smitten Hannibal Lecter, Stars, black holes, like a lot, mentions of cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 15:08:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17082638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GateBreaker/pseuds/GateBreaker
Summary: Because they were meant for this path. A cosmically routed collision.In the end, he knows, there are worse things to drown in than starlight.





	Maelstrom of Reconstruction

**Author's Note:**

> So this started as kind of a word prompt, which was 'black hole' and it somehow evolved into a Hannibal fic. It went down the deep end and turned into this. I swear it wasn’t supposed to, I completely deviated from the original plan. Hannibal just came up and took the reins. *sighs* I'm not too sure about the title so if anyone has any other ideas...  
> English is not my first language, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.  
> And regardless of the unexpectedness of its existence, I hope you enjoy.

This is a story about a boy who loved the stars.

A boy who always loved too much, too intensely, too _obsessively_.

With every step, with every pull, with every breath. Every crawling moment. Every second ticking by as he hoped – _wanted_ with a fervent intensity that bordered on fanatical – to grasp the skies. To touch, to feel, to breathe, to _take_. To chase the light of a star and grip the core tight in his fists, to press it deep into the dark chasm inside himself, and _consume_. To quench the hunger that clawed under his ribs, under flesh and bone, and sung a song of starlight. That lodged itself under his throat, perched over his heart and was never _sated_. That _longed_ for the collapse and the flare of a supernova.

A rising black hole.

Grasping for the light.

Hungry at the core.

And as he starved – never full, never satiated, never truly _stable_ –, aching for nourishment, he found it in a boy. After decades of vicious hunger and violent hunts, he finds it in the expanse of star covered skin and in the voice of clashing atoms. A celestial sea rising to drag him down, raging and burning bright in the fabric of creation waiting for the collapse. He who had stardust in his hair and entire solar systems in his eyes, who smiled like he could hold stars in his teeth (and forgot how they burn and burn and _die_ ). A lighthouse in the storm, guiding him in the void of his core. A boy who shined like he could be the sun and hid moonlit secrets in his skin. A boy with supernovas buried in his chest ready to explode. A maelstrom of art and destruction. A kaleidoscope of creation and death. Who _saw_ and didn’t turn away from the answering stare of the abyss or the dark tendrils that coaxed him to parts unknown.

A boy who looked and _understood_.

And as the _want_ pooled in his stomach and the _hunger_ scraped at the edges of its bounds, scorching in his veins – throbbing for the boy forged from stardust, born from the ashes of a dying star and with blood carrying the heat of a burning galaxy, from starfire and asteroids, from constellations and comets, and the timeless chain of infinitesimal chances, throbbing for the moon of his skin and stars of his teeth and ice comets of his eyes –, seeping deep in the crevasses of his mind and in the hollows of his bones, pulling him taut with _need_ – tearing skin and breaking bone, whispering in the dark recesses of his being to take, to keep, to _possess_ , rumbling like a beast ready for the hunt. And with yearning gathering in his mouth and a howl lodged in his throat, the boy who craved the starlight stirred under the cage of his ribs.

A meeting of the cosmos. An inevitability of space.

Because they were meant for this path. A cosmically routed collision.

In the end, he knows, there are worse things to drown in than starlight.

And as he waited for the impact of two unstoppable forces, he knew what laid ahead.

Because boys who love the stars only have one fate.

They _fall_.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, and if you found any error or misspelling or just want to drop a comment down below, it would make my day.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
